


Shutterclick

by zimriya



Category: DBSK | Tohoshinki | TVfXQ | TVXQ
Genre: Canon Compliant, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-13
Updated: 2017-08-13
Packaged: 2018-12-15 01:43:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,788
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11795826
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zimriya/pseuds/zimriya
Summary: TVXQ and photoshoots, a love story.





	Shutterclick

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Tapunyr](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tapunyr/gifts).



> For Debs, who wanted Ti Amo, and Kinah, who encouraged this mess. Also for Vampire-unnie, who wanted fic period.
> 
> Betaed by Izzy, with a minor second opinion from Aixing. All other mistakes are my own.
> 
> THERE ARE IMAGES IN THIS. As always (I'm a serial reader of fic on my phone so I'm hyper aware) I have mobile tested the size so if you are in landscape hamburger w/e you will be able to scroll without shifting to the left or right.

**Shutterclick**

\--

**1.**

**June 2011, El Sol, Spain**

They fly them to Spain straight after SM Town, and Changmin finds ways to be annoyed about that.

“It’s pointless to fly,” he starts with, because: “everyone knows that the best way to travel Europe is by train.”

Kyungjae-hyung sighs, well done with the complaints, but Yunho is far too busy staring out the window to be bothered by the ups and downs of Changmin’s arguments:

“I’m just saying there’s no reason we couldn’t take a train,” he says.

“The passport hassle alone,” says Kyungjae-hyung. “Not to mention the fans.”

“The fans don’t care. We’re in Europe.”

“SM Town begs to differ.”

“That’s different. That was all of us--”

Yunho tunes them out, tired but too wired with nervous flight energy to do more than count clouds. He turns them all into animals in his mind, has them all settled and mapped out, and then remembers _Running Man_ , and worries that perhaps his drawing abilities have translated over to his identification skills.

Changmin and Kyungjae-hyung are still going at it; Yunho’s starting to wonder if Changmin’s finding things to be annoyed about simply for the face of it, or if he’s really that done with the entire experience of being in TVXQ.

He doesn’t like to think about that much.

“We’ve never been to Spain before,” he interrupts finally, taking his eyes off a cloud he thinks is an elephant. “How long are we staying?”

“Six days.” Kyungjae-hyung sounds relieved to be free of the argument. “We’re going to multiple locations.”

Yunho hums, pleased.

Changmin hums, less pleased.

The captain warns them of turbulence.

\--

Spain is hot. Of course it is; it’s summer; but Yunho had thought perhaps that would be enough to deter their stylists from putting them in warm woolen knits and matador costumes.

At the very least, the heat has eased Changmin, and made him much less insufferable. It’s hell on his hair, though, which never fails to give their coordi-noonas grief, and more often than not Changmin is called over to the umbrellas for last minute fixes and hair touch ups.

Yunho mostly tries to enjoy the weather, scenery, and the ever changing slope of cobblestones under his feet. Europe is beautiful. The buildings are smaller, historic, and aging, with the street names pinned directly to the face sides and with winding, mysterious roads darting off on fantastic journeys.

He and Changmin aren’t allowed to go down any mysterious roads, nor are they allowed to dart off on adventures. Instead, they stand side by side against potted backdrops and in bullfighting rings, smiling, not smiling, and trying not to squint too hard into the camera.

A day in, and they’re allowed to go to the beach.

It’s a reward for being so quick for the indoor shoot--the bed shoot, where Changmin was put in front of a camera in an incredibly short pair of shorts that showed off most of his thighs, and was told to brush his teeth; where Yunho shoved a pillow down into the younger man’s lap and stuck his head there because it was cute, and not because it made Changmin’s aforementioned thighs shake with barely disguised control.

“I like that,” one of their staff members had said, voice subdued and coming from a corner around the bed.

Changmin’s muscles had jumped.

Yunho had lifted his head off the pillow, suitably chastised.

“The beach is after,” Kyungjae-hyung explains, one eye stuck on the rest of their team, huddled over the camera and consulting their schedule. “Sunflowers, first.”

Yunho nods, schedule already forgotten in favor of an afternoon spent with sand under his toes and the sea in his lungs. Not literally, of course, because he wouldn’t want to drown. But they’ve been back and forth along the sealine, and Yunho can practically taste the salt and brine.

It’s heady, completely unlike anything else, and it makes him want to come back later as a real vacation.

When they arrive, the day is nearly done, but even Changmin, who’d spent the day alternating between running away from cameras so he could strip out of stifling costuming and whining about how Yunho was stepping on his toes, taps an anxious beat against the car floorboards.

“Be nice,” a stylist noona warns, but Yunho is already vibrating with excitement. The ensemble is grey and nondescript anyway, and it matches the dimming sand on the beach. Sunset’s coming, the photos are going to look spectacular, and all Yunho wants is to see how long it takes before the shots are good enough that he can get away with splashing Changmin with seawater.

Changmin is much more subdued in his excitement, but then, that’s how things always are, in these moments. Polar, 180 degree opposites, Yunho thinks they said in their last interview. They weren’t lying.

“Don’t ruin the clothes or get wet,” another stylist noona is telling them, but she sounds like it’s a lost cause, and it hasn’t escaped Yunho’s notice that the pants are quite cropped.

The water, thankfully, is freezing.

“Don’t you dare,” Changmin says anyway, in between shots and behind the scene takes. The wind is doing things to his hair that leave Yunho breathless.

He shoots Changmin a look. “Don’t I dare what?”

Changmin rolls his eyes. “I saw you, Hyung,” he says. “You were going to dunk me.”

Yunho absolutely was going to dunk Changmin. “I was not,” he lies.

Changmin stares back, unimpressed. “Uh huh.”

Yunho grins at him, half to appease him, half because he can’t help himself.

“It’s freezing,” Changmin further points out, but follows when Yunho darts closer to dip his toes in.

It is freezing, and Yunho spend a few shots of the behind the scenes dancing through the waves shouting on about it in Japanese.

The camera crew wanders by, bemused. “That’s nice.” One of them lifts the camera, thinking.

“Your fault,” Changmin says, out the side of his mouth in between takes, feet probably freezing, and unable to stop wincing as the waves lick at his heels.

Yunho wants to come back here most of all, when the sun is high in the sky and the water is a welcome respite. He wants to dunk Changmin straight to the bottom, and then climb in right after him, giggling, until it devolves into play fighting and things better left unthought.

“Stop thinking,” Changmin says, with one last play in the waves, and sends Yunho on his way up the beach.

“Here,” the staff decides, and they get on their bellies and play at thumb war and slumber.

Changmin wins three times.

“Again,” Yunho says, grudging and annoyed, and thumps a foot against the sand in frustration.

Changmin just smiles back at him, brilliant and honest. “Sore loser, Hyung,” he says, in Korean.

Yunho flicks sand in his face, careful of his eyes. “Cheater,” he returns.

Their Japanese staff roll their eyes, used to it; their Korean staff sigh.

Changmin’s lips turn down. “Three out of five?” he says.

Yunho snorts. “You’ve already won, then,” he points out.

Changmin seems to mull that over, and then the entire expanse of his chest is going pink, so much so that he dips his head down to hide the state of his cheeks. It leaves his neck out for everyone to see, and so Yunho, feeling slightly bad, lays his own head down.

That gets them a moment, instructed to try at sleeping some more, until Changmin has to lift his head to look at the camera, and the fact that they’re lying nose to nose on a beach in Spain holding hands for the shoot makes them both dissolve into uncontainable giggles.

“Your head was in his lap yesterday,” Kyungjae-hyung says, tone dry and incredibly unimpressed, when they’ve rolled onto their backs to laugh even more. “Be professional.”

“We’re the most professional,” Changmin says, in between breathless and utterly helpless laughter. “ _So_ professional--ha.”

Yunho just grins, breath coming in pants, and lifts a wrist to cover his mouth.

He gets a mouthful of sand instead, which ruins the moment.

Changmin dissolves into even more laughter, and even Kyungjae-hyung cracks a smile at Yunho, rolled over onto his side hacking up sand.

“You’re both the worst,” he says when he’s done. “What if I’d died?”

“There are ten of us here,” Kyungjae-hyung says. “You wouldn’t have died.”

Yunho glares at them and swipes at his eyes with a clean, sand free hand. “I could have,” he says rather petulantly.

Changmin rolls back over onto his shoulder, and then gets to his feet. “Sure Hyung,” he says, smiling brilliantly, and punts the ball down the beach.

\--

The flight home is utterly anticlimactic, in the grand scheme of things. Changmin sleeps for most of it, head bent uncomfortably towards the window seat, and Yunho spends most of his time on his iPad, reviewing the rest of their comeback schedule, and saturating himself in the recent recordings off the Tone album.

They land and it’s back to the grind--Changmin off to _Come to Play_ , Yunho off to the recording studio, and before long, El Sol is but an incredibly fond memory.

The other things--the whispered things, when Changmin was sound asleep on the plane with his head bent as far away from Yunho as possible, or the moments their hands brushed in between shots and Yunho almost forgot they weren’t on a couple’s holiday.

Those are different.

Those are for late nights, which are often, and sleepless nights, which are constant, and sometimes when they’re standing on stage, staring at a red ocean, and Changmin is there, beside him, breathing it all in.

“Changmin-ah,” Yunho says, one day, when they’ve been in Japan for so long that everything is starting to stick together, and after more fights than they can count.

Changmin cocks his head at him, full attention written in the set of his shoulders, even as his eyes cast shadows around the room in considering little flicks.

Yunho, who gave the room his own little onceover when they came in and found it lacking, smiles for a photo op, and wishes his hair was slightly less in his eyes.

“Let’s go back to Spain.”

Changmin scoffs at him, still bristling from their latest fight, which left Yunho on a separate plane to New York and alone to do the fanmeet at Lacoste.

“Sure, Hyung.” Changmin somehow manages to make the honorific sound disrespectful. “When we have time.”

Yunho doesn’t answer, distracted by their call to head out into the studio for the interview part of their recording.

Changmin spends the rest of the press junket making thinly veiled taunts about Yunho’s lack of basic hygiene and inability to use toothpaste.

Yunho puts Spain down as a maybe.  

\--

[x](http://www.dbsknights.net/2011/11/scans-tohoshinki-el-sol-photobook-part.html)

\--

**Interlude.**

**November 2012, Seoul, South Korea**

In late 2012, on a lark, he kisses Changmin, because they’re watching Spanish films, and looking at old photobooks from Paris, and it seems the right thing to do. Changmin kisses back, smiling, and the next day all their staff roll their eyes and tell them it was about time, and now could they stop having arguments that even the new staff noticed.

Yunho makes Changmin answer half the questions at their _Catch Me Tour_ press conference in Seoul to watch the lot of them squirm; Changmin sucks bruises into Yunho’s neck after the _Time_ release events; Kyungjae-hyung puts Yunho in the world’s largest hooded sweater known to man, and then acts like he has absolutely no idea why their seats were over top the wings, where the turbulence is the worst.

There are no romantic European photoshoots in 2012.

It’s _lovely_.

\--

**3.**

**July 2013, Ti Amo, Milan**

Yunho’s insufferable at the airport. He knows he’s doing it, Changmin knows he’s doing, Kyungjae-hyung and Sungchang-hyung and Myunghwan-hyung all know he’s doing it, but he can’t really help himself. The swelling’s basically gone anyway, since Changmin’s basically been on ice since the PD yelled cut, but Yunho still pulls him aside in the middle of Incheon, fingers delicate and probing and warm against the cool of Changmin’s skin.

Really it had looked much worse in the bleary photos Hodong-hyung (and Sungchang-hyung) had sent Yunho when it happened in the moment, but Yunho still has to be sure, still has to tilt Changmin’s head this way and that way to make sure the light’s not hiding anything.

Changmin lets him, eyes rolling, and angles them out of sight from prying eyes.

After a few moments, Yunho drops his hands, sticks them into his pockets, and sighs.

“What?” Changmin’s smiling at him, mouth perfect and unblemished. “No threatening to make me quit?”

Yunho growls at him half-heartedly, hackles rising a little. “Yah, Shim Changmin,” he says. “Don’t be stupid.”

Changmin snorts at him, blowing his bangs out of his eyes and regarding Yunho with one raised eyebrow.

Yunho feels an answering smile on his face and has to shift his weight to keep it from emerging. “Stop being stupid,” he repeats to Changmin’s unsaid question. “Also. I know you love that show.”

Changmin goes warm around the edges for a second, before rolling his eyes some more and shoving playfully at Yunho’s shoulder. “Sap,” he groans.

Yunho just smiles at him, hands stuck in both pockets. “You love it,” he says.

“I love you,” Changmin says quietly, and Yunho’s heart skips three damn beats. “Even though Hodong-hyung hasn’t stopped teasing me about you in hours.”

Yunho groans, feeling a blush creeping at his cheeks, and pulls his sunglasses down over his eyes. “It looked really bad,” he complains. “I was worried.”

Changmin grins at him, tongue darting out to wet his lips. “It was barely more than a tap, Hyung,” he says. “The embarrassing thing was losing the damn raft race.”

Yunho shakes his head at him, amused. “Sure,” he says. “I spoke to Hyung. I know you spent ten minutes in the bathroom afraid your good looks were gone for good.”

Changmin’s mouth drops open, cheeks going pink, and Yunho cackles, pleased as you like, before striding off in search of their handlers.

“Yah. Yunho-hyung!” whisper-shouts Changmin after him, voice high and whiny. “I was not--I _did not_ \--yah!”

Yunho hides a grin.

\--

Changmin has to be back in five days for filming in Busan, so their days are relatively packed with activities, but Yunho still finds time to feel less like he’s on a job and more like he’s on vacation.

The weather’s lovely, if not a shade more humid than he was expecting, and sunny, so Yunho spends the first half of the outdoor shoot squinting and trying to look like he’s not squinting.

They’re in full suits, and even though Yunho’s got shorts and Changmin’s dress shirt has no sleeves, Yunho still feels a little less like a tourist because of it. But Milan is beautiful, and Changmin is breathtaking, and if Yunho spends a little less time staring at their surroundings a little more time staring at his bandmate, their staff are still charmed enough by them to let it go.

After all, as Kyungjae-hyung had put it over a few glasses of soju, the two of them had been insufferable since New Year’s, and it was only the fact that they’d spent the first half of 2012 at each other’s throats that kept their staff from throwing in the towel and instituting a no PDA policy.

The fountain is incredibly pretty, Milan is a _dream_ , but the highlight of the trip is later, when they’re let off to explore the stores and wander in and out of boutiques.

Yunho goes into shop after shop, breathes in the smell of new clothing like a man never allowed to go shopping, and thinks. Well. He hasn’t ever been, really, since mostly they’re in sponsored outfits, or stylist chosen outfits, or trying to pretend that girl in the window with the phone _isn’t_ taking photos of him picking clothes.

They pop into YSL, Yunho ends up near the sweaters, and Changmin is lost to the dress shoes and colognes.

The thing is…not horrendous, because Yunho supposes it has some sort of charm, but it’s certainly much more of a statement than he’d go for. But it’s red, and their fan club is red, so Yunho grabs it and makes for the changing rooms.

He stands in front of the mirror, fully aware that the staff and managers he left outside are muttering about wanting photos, and fingers the hemline with his tongue between his teeth. It’s probably too much. He goes to take it off.

“Yeah, no,” says Changmin, barging straight into Yunho’s change room with no sense of shame.

Yunho yelps, halfway out of the sweater and heart pounding, even though he’s left his shirt on underneath because he’s been instructed to come out from behind the curtain for some artistic photos by their staff and the cameraman at least three times.

“Changdol-ah!” he hisses, heart still racing, and finishes shoving himself back into the too big sweater. “Warn a man!”

Changmin just rolls his eyes, bemused, and helps Yunho tug the thing down around his hips. And then he just sort of keeps his hands there, palms hot through the two layers of fabric, and Yunho swallows rather heavily.

“Um,” he starts to say.

“You’re not buying that,” Changmin decides, voice to the point. “It’s horrendous.”

“It’s Yves Saint Laurent,” Yunho protests.

“Is it?” Changmin pauses, and flips Yunho around to he can read the tag, one hand holding onto him by the stomach, fingers spread.

Yunho swallows again, heart pounding for a whole other reason, and stares straight ahead at the curtain blocking them from the rest of the store. And their staff. And the cameraman. With the camera. Preparing to take artistic photographs.

Yunho gulps. “Changdol-ah,” he tries to say, but Changmin is too busy thumbing over the tag on the sweater, the other hand encompassing Yunho’s abdomen. It’s an entirely pointless venture, given they’re standing inside the YSL store itself, but Changmin’s mumbling the Italian on the label now, which is doing nothing to help Yunho, who can’t help but hold his breath.

Changmin’s pinky is brushing his waistline.

Yunho’s heart feels ready to burst from his chest.

Changmin drops his hand down from the tag, whirls them both back around, and then drops his chin onto Yunho’s shoulder. Both his hands come around this time, one on top of the other, and Yunho stares into the mirror with his heart going a mile a minute.

“It’s horrendous,” Changmin repeats, eyes caught on the slope of Yunho’s throat. It’s like he can already tell that the thing’s a size too big, and if Yunho didn’t have another shirt underneath, it would leave out almost all of his collarbones. It’s like he can tell that the thing is giving Yunho…  _paws._ “It’s fashionable, though,” Changmin continues, giving Yunho a slight squeeze. “Buy it anyway.”

Yunho swallows, throat bobbing. In the mirror, he looks caught, eyes wide, blown, and unable to look away from Changmin’s own, dark, glittering, and utterly enraptured by the sliver of Yunho’s neck.

Their staff is outside.

Their staff and a cameraman.

Yunho wants to _kiss_ Changmin--

“Yunho-yah,” Kyungjae-hyung interrupts sounding done. “Changmin-ah. We are on a schedule.”

Changmin releases Yunho instantly, expression sour for all of three seconds, before emerging from the dressing room with a flourish. “He’s buying it,” he decides, and reaches back to tug the curtain aside so that Yunho can come out, still wrapped up in the sweater.

“It’s…horrendous,” one of the stylist-noonas says, already salivating a little.

Yunho thinks she’s the one who put them in four different half glittering suits the entirety of October and a week of November.

“It’s YSL,” Changmin says, and that’s the end of it.

\--

“You have…half an hour,” Kyungjae-hyung says, and frowns a little. “We’re going boating tomorrow.” His lips pull to one side. “They want you sleeveless.”

Changmin’s ears flame. “For the last time, that was entirely by accident--and entirely Yunho-hyung’s fault--”

Yunho drops a hand overtop Changmin’s mouth with a smile. “Thank you, Hyung,” he says.

Changmin chews on his palm, unrepentant, and then goes still and pink when Yunho steps in close and says, none too quietly, “Stop that. This is what got us into that in the first place.”

Changmin looks like he really wants to say something about how it really _wasn’t_ his fault, given that Yunho was the one who had decided that what they really should do in the ten minutes they had after _Inkigayo_ was fuck in a broom closet, and it was Yunho who had failed to provide Changmin with any sort of things to hold onto or bite onto when in the throes of an utterly unfair and mindblowing orgasm, and it was Yunho who had, at the same time, decided to answer his phone when Kyungjae-hyung wanted to know where the fuck they were.

Which.

To be fair, it probably was Yunho’s fault that Changmin had mauled his forearm, and the fact that it meant they both had to be in long sleeves for a few music programs and performances was fine, because it was winter.

Kyungjae-hyung still hasn’t let it go, however.

Yunho thinks they should give Kyungjae-hyung a raise.

“Fire him,” Changmin says, as soon as their manager has left and it’s just the two of them in their Milan hotel room. “Give him to the new group--what are they called? Angel Food Cake?”

“Red Velvet,” Yunho corrects, shaking his head. He yawns, and hides it behind his hand.

“We are not fucking,” Changmin continues, even as he goes for the buttons on his dress shirt and shoves Yunho down onto the bed. “We only have half an hour.”

Yunho watches him with half lidded eyes, content to watch as Changmin strips his way out of the first shirt, and is left in the undershirt, nipples pebbled up against the thin fabric.

Changmin swallows, caught.

Yunho lets his eyes dip lower.

“Fuck,” Changmin swears, getting a knee over the bed and shoving into Yunho’s lap. He’s crueler to the buttons on Yunho’s shirt, but no less diligent. “Fuck, fine.”

Yunho lets his hands settle on Changmin’s hips, tugs him in close, and kisses him.

“Twenty minutes,” Changmin sighs out.

They’re late.

\--

Yunho [buys a painting](http://wearet-tvxq.com/wordpress/wp-content/uploads/2013/07/130731_tvxq_airport_yunho_13.jpg) on the way home. He wears [designer shoes](http://wearet-tvxq.com/wordpress/wp-content/uploads/2013/07/130731_tvxq_airport_yunho_14.jpg) that lace up and down his ankles, partly because they’re comfortable, but mostly because when Changmin sees them he makes a sore face of disapproval. He can’t say anything, though, since Yunho bought him wine.

“I should wear these more often,” Yunho tells him rather pleasantly, in the middle of Incheon airport waiting for their luggage.

Changmin has filming immediately after, and no doubt will go rushing off to Jungsoo-hyung like always.

“I will disown you,” Changmin says out the side of his mouth. The both of them had adopted nondescript expressions behind sunglasses when they landed, and even though Yunho’s hands are about to be full of luggage and his brand-new painting, Changmin’s expression still has him lifting them protectively in front of him.

It really is unfair, given he can’t even see the other man’s eyes.

“Divorce me?” Yunho suggests.

Changmin’s nostrils flare.

“I think they’re cute,” Yunho says, only half teasing.

“Disown,” Changmin says, as they get into their separate cars.

Yunho watches him vanish towards his own van, off for more hour long filming, and smirks.

 _You know you love them, Changdol,_ he sends Changmin in KakaoTalk.

The 1 at the side vanishes, marking the thing as read.

Changmin doesn’t respond.

Yunho smirks.

\--

[x](https://onehallyu.com/topic/91379-complete-hq-scan-la-storia-tvxq-u-know-max-behind-the-scenes-2014/)

\--

**4.**

**December 2014, Heliophilia, Koh Samui**

Yunho sleeps on the plane. It’s good, because it’s early, and also, when they land, the climate change is more than jarring.

Changmin peels out of his outer coat to reveal a white t-shirt and a fitted, half down vest underneath, scuffs the heels of his shoes against the airport carpet, and yawns in a way that should be terribly ugly but is instead terribly attractive.

They go through immigration easily enough, letting staff answer for them when they can, and filling in cards when they have to themselves. Then it’s a quick stop over to Koh Samui itself, at which point the reality of the situation seems to set in.

They’re only here for four days, because they have a _T1st0ry_ concert scheduled for the 13th, but they’re also _here_ , among the utter beauty of Koh Samui, and their hotel has an infinity pool.

“It’s probably for the photoshoot,” Changmin says, fingers already itching around the hem of his t-shirt. “The theme seems to be tropical getaway.”

“The theme seems to be a tropical _honeymoon_ getaway,” Yunho says, and then ducks in time to miss getting hit in the face with Changmin’s shirt.

Jaeyoung-hyung and the rest of their staff sigh, used to this by now, and the cameraman disengages from the throng of them to grab a camera.

“You’re still wearing jeans, Changmin-ah,” Jaeyoung-hyung calls, watching Changmin fiddle with the locks on the glass doors so he can get out onto the deck.

The pool is impressive, Yunho will admit. It stretches on and on to infinity, as the name suggests, and the view is stunning. Yunho can see a cropping of trees--green at the tops and leafy like palms--set against a sky so blue it gives Yunho goosebumps, and just a hint of sand. There’s ocean too, slightly grey from this distance, and Yunho is all of a sudden transported three years back, to a completely different ocean, with a completely different Changmin.

One who would have frowned about how their tour guide did honeymoons on the side, and who would have taken one look at the spa on the corner of the deck and been utterly untaken with the bubbles.

“Changmin-ah. You’re still wearing jeans!” Jaeyoung-hyung shouts again, one last time, and Changmin finally comes back into the hotel room, fingers on the buttons of his jeans.

“Fine.” He sticks a tongue out at the man, and heads over to the suitcases in search of a bathing suit.

Yunho supposes it’s good none of their female staff have come with them into the room.

Changmin disappears and reappears from the suite bathroom in a striped pair of swimming trunks.

“Those are for the shoot tomorrow,” Jaeyoung-hyung says, sighing.

Changmin stops in the doorway. “Take photos of me for Facebook,” he decides.

Jaeyoung-hyung pinches the bridge of his nose. “Later,” he sighs.

Changmin frowns, casts one more longing look at the infinity pool and spa, and heads back into the bathroom.

Yunho steps up to the glass sliding door and closes it with a small thud, a fond smile doing something around the corners of his mouth. He can feel it, but he can’t help it. Changmin is darling.

Koh Samui was Changmin’s idea in the first place, because assuming he and Yunho would be enlisting together (the notice had come again, and this time there was no delaying), a photobook would be a lovely surprise for the fans. Besides it was December in Seoul, with snow due any day; Koh Samui, by contrast, has beaches, sun, and the sea.

It would certainly be nice to have a real vacation, Yunho thinks, but even if he had to come for work, at least he got to come at all.

“Besides,” Changmin had argued, sipping tea in Yunho’s apartment with his feet neatly tucked under himself. “I went to Bali alone, and you won’t shut up about it.”

Which.

That was fair. Bali looked _gorgeous_ , and Yunho is still jealous of Changmin for getting to steal away in the middle of their schedules. Granted, he’d been there for a photoshoot, but still.

“Do you two want a moment?” Jaeyoung-hyung interrupts Yunho’s thoughts.

Changmin’s come back out of the bathroom dressed again, and he scowls. “I’m starting to think I should just not put on a shirt again,” he says.

Yunho would not be opposed to that.

Jaeyoung-hyung thinks that over. “That’d be fine,” he says. “We’ll do the garden shots and then break for lunch.”

Changmin crosses his arms over his chest.

Someone knocks on their hotel room door. “That’ll be Jennyhouse,” Jaeyoung-hyung says.

“Shirtless,” Changmin retorts.

\--

“Hey, Changminnie,” Yunho whispers, only it’s not a real whisper.

On the chair above him, Changmin only twitches slightly.

Yunho nestles in closer to the chair, bumping his head up against the railing, and feeling a little bit like a dog. He’s not sure why he’s on the floor to begin with, but the photographer seems to be loving the experience.

“Yunho-ssi,” the man says. “The book.”

Yunho shifts the guide to Thailand in his grip so that it’s a little better positioned so that Changmin can crane his head down to look at it.

“This makes perfect sense,” Changmin says, as the camera goes off and off. “This is absolutely how we read books.”

“If we photographed how we really read books this would be porn,” Yunho says, tone bone dry. He actually whispers that one, and he says it in Japanese to be safe, but enough of their staff have caught on enough to know what he’s talking about

Jaeyoung-hyung for sure, since he’s the one coughing too loudly.

“Changminnie,” Yunho takes the moment to continue, back in Korean. “Are you cold?”

There’s a moment.

Changmin pauses on the chair.

“How about hats?” he hears their stylist says, a little bit panicked sounding.

Someone runs them in near-matching straw hats.

Yunho balances it neatly on his head, and then turns around so that he can stare up at Changmin properly. “You know,” he says, in Japanese again. “Because we’re in Koh _Samui_.”

There’s another beat.

Changmin’s brow furrows.

“Pretend that you’re sleeping,” the photographer instructs.

Someone arrives to take the guide book from Yunho, who immediately drapes back against the chair and closes his eyes. He listens to the rustle of Changmin rearranging his legs on the chair. The pants he’s wearing are paper thin and linen and so white that Yunho thinks it’s good they’ve only used them in the hotel room.

“I’m only asking because you’re not wearing a shirt, Changdol,” Yunho continues, still in Japanese, out of the side of his mouth. “And I wouldn’t want you to be cold. In Koh Samui.”

There’s another prolonged pause.

Then, brilliantly, Changmin starts snickering.

Yunho holds his expression perfectly calm and poised.

The camera goes off. “Perfect,” the photographer breathes.

“Terrible,” a staff member says.

“Hyung,” Changmin whines, still sounding giggly. “Stop it.”

“I don’t know why you’re laughing,” Yunho says somewhat petulantly, not really meaning it.  

“Koh _Samui_ ,” Changmin snickers in Japanese. “ _Cold_.”

Yunho grins back at him, knocking his head back so that the hat falls off.

Changmin leans back in, his own hat falling eschew.

Yunho wants to reach up and grab it, to right it, or toss it away, or use it as cover so he can kiss Changmin. But they’re at work, and they can’t, and so he settles for just smiling, trying to convey all of that in his eyes.

Changmin gets it, as always, and smirks right back. They make him cover his mouth with the hat for the next few shots, because he can’t quite seem to get the smile to go away.

\--

“You’re _not_ serious,” Changmin says, giving Yunho’s feet a cursory once over.

Yunho just widens his smile extra hard and he hasn’t put his sweatshirt on, which means he can throw in a few arm flexes as well.

Changmin’s eyes seem stuck on the [stars on Yunho’s shirt](http://wearet-tvxq.com/wordpress/wp-content/uploads/2014/12/141212_tvxq_airport_yunho_17.jpg).

Yunho crosses his arms under them to help with that. Never let it be said that he hadn’t grown into his body or whatever. Although, to be fair, mostly he’d grown into the way Changmin _looked_ at him.

“I told you I like them,” Yunho says.

Changmin frowns at him, hard. “Okay,” he says, tone utterly dubious.

“Besides, I wore them on our first honeymoon.”

“First honeymoon,” Changmin parrots back, tone dubious. He pulls his sunglasses down on his head and settles himself more solidly into the seat.

Yunho follows him into the van with a mild pause, tugging at his sweatshirt. It’s too hot to put it on, but the flight is bound to be cold and the airport is bound to be cold, so he’ll need it.

Changmin is still staring at him, one perfectly groomed brow raised.  

Yunho stares back, unbothered. “Yeah. Milan.”

Changmin’s face cycles through at least three emotions, before ending up on something like pleased. He ducks his head, suddenly looking self-conscious.

Yunho thinks back fondly on their last night in Milan, on wine tasting, and on certain purchases, worn to visit Changmin filming in Busan.

He hides a grin behind his hand. He has the sweater in his carryon. He can’t wear it now, obviously, nor can he wear it during T1st0ry. But he loves the way Changmin looks right now. Jaeyoung-hyung and the rest of their staff have filed into the van, which sets off for the airport, so the conversation is officially dropped. The shy smile Changmin throws towards Yunho’s shoes, thus, is almost missed.

Almost.

Yunho files it away for future reference.

The look he gets two days later on their way back from Taipei, when he pulls the [YSL sweater](http://wearet-tvxq.com/wordpress/wp-content/uploads/2014/12/141214_tvxq_airport_1_yunho_09.jpg) on over his t-shirt and stands patiently waiting for Changmin to finish a last minute hair fix?

Even better.

\--

[x](https://twitter.com/Treasure_TVXQ/status/792563105653923842)

\--

**5.**

**March 2015, Stay, Hawaii**

_Stay_ is, for all intents and purposes, meant to be an ending. It’s Hawaii, which Changmin’s gone to, and it’s shy of Spring, so the heat hasn’t fully set in, but the landscape is beautiful, the air is clear, and Yunho ends up standing in a beautiful field with the love of his life as the sun sets, so.

It’s wonderful.

“So which honeymoon does this count as, again?” Changmin says rather dryly, in between takes with a baseball and two oversized burgers. The burgers were Yunho’s favorite part, first because they tasted good, but also because he got to banter back and forth with Changmin in English. Changmin had smirked and given as good as he got, but Yunho had seen the beginnings of a grin on his face, and there had been no give when he clasped a hand to the back of his shoulder.

“Three,” Yunho answers after a pause, but he’s only half listening and only half thinking.

Changmin’s ears are going a little red in the cold from the wind. It’s the first time they’ve let his hair be soft and unstyled, and it’s working so well for him.

The casual t-shirt, the expanse of brown thigh--all of it is wonderful. Yunho is grateful for all the seated positions, all the wind, and for the always present stress to not fuck up horribly at sports as usual. He’s got a decent arm, Changmin’s got a decent catch, and they actually manage to get through a few tosses of the baseball without dissolving into giggles and badly made puns about catching and receiving.

“You’re sure they’re adults?” Jaeyoung-hyung asks another of their managers, voice raised to carry over the wind. “You’re sure they’re enlisting?”

“You’ll miss us!” Changmin calls back, abandoning the baseball and mitt to flop across the grass.

Yunho follows him, heart doing funny little aerobics in his chest. The ground is hard, the grass slightly damp from dew, and Changmin is warm and breathing beside him. If Yunho wanted, he could reach a hand out and touch him, could curl their fingers together. He could roll them, vault himself up and over and press Changmin down into the earth and _own_ him.

But then, porn.

Changmin meets his eyes, a shy smile dancing in them.

Yunho stares back, taken.

“This is too intimate,” the photographer decides, after a moment. “Sit up.”

They do, cross legged and grinning. Someone runs them a basketball, they get plastic cups, Yunho goes to sleep on the basketball, their staff shake their head.

The cups are moved, Yunho sits back up.

“Better,” the photographer decides. He lowers the camera, and goes to consult with the staff.

“Honeymoon three,” Yunho says suddenly, leaning to catch Changmin’s eye.

“Still work, though,” Changmin replies.

Yunho will give him that. “I’ll make it up to you in 2017.”

Changmin’s expression sobers briefly, then crests out into affection. “I’ll hold you to that.”

Yunho sticks his hand out, pinky extended. Changmin mirrors him after a pause. In the background, their managers groan.

“This is perfect,” someone says.

“We can’t put it in the DVD,” another person puts in.

“Get the camera--get the camera--fuck--fuck,” their photographer--their mild mannered Japanese photographer--swears.

Yunho links his pinky to Changmin’s. “Promise,” he says.

\--

[x](https://twitter.com/Treasure_TVXQ/status/786799115828989952)

\--

**Bonus.**

**June 2017, Jeju Island, SM Retreat**

“This is betrayal,” Changmin says, voice subdued, but no less expressive through the phone.

Yunho grins, settling back into his seat. He crosses his legs at the ankles, catches eyes with Yoona, and smiles. “But Changdol, you went to Jeju with Kyu.”

“You _broke_ yourself,” Changmin retorts, knowing what Yunho means instantly. “Your mom practically ran me out of the hospital.”

Yunho shudders, the memories not unpleasant, per se, so much as a little bit stifling. His parents had spent the first day seemingly drawing straws for who was going to stare morosely down at Yunho’s sprained ankle, and who was going to scroll through his schedule and tut.

“Yeah, well, Bali,” Yunho tries.

Changmin scoffs. “Work,” he says.

“All our honeymoons have been work, though,” Yunho complains, glad for once that his seniority is affording him some sort of awkward privacy.

Changmin pauses, seemingly conceding. “Right. And given this is also work, betrayal.”

“You make no sense, Changdol.”

“You make no sense either,” Changmin retorts neatly. “Also it’s your fault.”

Yunho waits, breath baited.

“Because, uh, I. Other half, um. Fuck.”

Yunho grins. “You’re sweet, Changminnie.”

“Oh my God _fuck_ off, Hyung,” he whines.

In the background, Yunho can hear laughter--Donghae--and booming questions--Siwon. Changmin’s probably blushing. His ears are probably flaming.

Yunho misses him with all the weight of three honeymoons, two dramatic promises, and heartfelt and early goodbyes. He thinks of the bracelet hidden in the back of his closet, and of the matching circle around Changmin’s wrist.

“Love you, Changmin,” he says.

Changmin’s protestations cut off, suddenly. “Love you too,” he says into the phone, voice hushed and very close. “Now, tell me how ‘Drop _’_ is going.”

Yunho groans, glad for the distraction. He thinks the SNSD girls have been eavesdropping for the entire conversation and are _cooing_. “Poorly,” he says. “The choreography is _hard_.”

“Yeah, well.” Changmin sounds entirely uncaring. “Tell that to the asshole who helped choreograph it in the first place. Oh wait, it’s the same guy who decided we should do complicated dance moves to a _ballad_.”

“You loved ‘Before You Go,’” Yunho says cheerfully. “The hip thrusts were your favorite part.”

“Does ‘Drop’ have hip thrusts?” Changmin says dryly.

Yunho is glad he can’t see him. “No?”

“Liar.” Changmin sounds smug.

Yunho grins. “You love me.”

“I do,” Changmin replies instantly, the scowls audibly down the line. “Ugh, Hyung, that’s twice in under two minutes.”

“You must love me stupid,” Yunho concludes. SNSD is definitely eavesdropping now, and have graduated from cooing to fake gagging.

Yunho sticks his tongue out at them, and maybe delights a little at the fact that one of the NCT boys catches him mid act, and goes an alarming shade of pink. That’s comforting, if not slightly alienating. It means he hasn’t lost it.

“You’re tormenting the juniors, aren’t you?” Changmin’s voice could sand mountains.

Yunho schools his features. “No.”

“Uh huh.”

“Love you,” Yunho sing songs, and hangs up.

Changmin might kill him for that when he gets back to Seoul for early drama filming, but it’s worth it.

(The telling off, the less than impressed grilling about phone calls being far and few between and Changmin only having so many hours to be on break dealing with company induced stress, and the fact that Changmin can’t help but press in close for kisses regardless, is a bonus.)

\--

_In the dazzling sun, you and I shouted out true feelings_

_I was afraid it would be pushed by time and become lies_

_Can you hear my heart? I have just returned to you right now_

_My dream was you, I will always be with you_

 

[ _always be with you by tvxq_ ](https://pinkrazy.wordpress.com/2014/01/06/tvxq-tense-album-full-lyrics-translation/)

 

end.

**Author's Note:**

> This is such an odd fic, b/c I wrote it in like three settings (I've been sitting on Ti Amo stuff for ages) and it feels very different from what I'm usually like I feel like, but I love it dearly. I've been waiting to use the Koh Samui joke since I figured out the were in Koh Samui. I'm HILARIOUS. Anyway, pure, honeymoon TVXQ fluff this is.
> 
> Comments/Reblogs/Retweets are LOVE. Seriously the greatest thing you can do it share it. I will love you forever.
> 
> [Tumblr masterpost](http://zimriya.tumblr.com/post/164153970920/title-shutterclick-wordsrating-68k-teen-pic) || [Twitter masterpost](https://twitter.com/zimriya/status/896881847887581185)


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